Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN IN THE MIRROR
Adrian stood motionless in his mother’s bedroom.
I had never seen fear on his face before.
Anger, yes.
Control, always.
But fear was different.
“What did she lie about?” I asked.
He did not answer.
“Adrian.”
He crossed the room and touched the lipstick on the mirror without thinking.
“Stay outside.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“Please.”
The word surprised me enough that I obeyed.
He searched the room for ten minutes while security swept the estate.
When he finally came out, he was holding a photograph.
It showed four people.
His mother.
My mother.
Adrian’s father.
And a man I had never seen.
I pointed at him.
“Who is that?”
“My uncle Daniel.”
“What is he holding?”
Adrian turned the photograph over.
A date was written on the back.
The same date my mother died.
Below it was a location.
The old Vale warehouse on River Street.
My pulse quickened.
“That place burned down.”
“I know.”
“Was my mother there?”
“I don’t know.”
He took out his phone.
“Marcus?”
His chief of security answered.
“Find every surviving record from the River Street fire. Police, insurance, private reports. Everything.”
Marcus asked a question.
Adrian glanced at me.
“Tonight.”
He ended the call.
I looked at him.
“You’re still hiding something.”
“Yes.”
“At least you admit it.”
“I don’t know whether the truth will make you hate me.”
“I already married you. I think we can survive a little hate.”
A strange softness entered his eyes.
“I am beginning to understand that.”
The next morning, a package arrived without a return address.
It contained a keycard, a photograph, and a note.
YOU HAVE THREE DAYS TO LEAVE ADRIAN.
OR WE SEND YOU THE LAST TAPE YOUR MOTHER EVER MADE.
I stared at the words.
Adrian took the note from my hand.
His jaw clenched.
“This is getting personal.”
“It was personal twenty-two years ago.”
He looked at me.
“I know.”
The keycard opened an abandoned private storage facility on the south side.
We went there that night.
The building smelled of concrete and dust.
At the end of a narrow corridor was a steel door.
Adrian swiped the card.
Nothing happened.
I held up the silver key from my mother.
“It might be this.”
He nodded.
The key turned.
Inside was a small room filled with sealed boxes.
Each had a date.
The oldest was marked with my birth year.
The newest was dated three days before my mother died.
Adrian stared at them.
“These were my mother’s.”
“How do you know?”
“She used the same handwriting on everything.”
We opened the newest box first.
Inside were financial records, photographs, handwritten notes, and a tiny recorder.
I pressed the button.
My mother’s voice filled the room.
“Claire, if you are hearing this, then I failed to keep you out of this.”
My knees nearly gave out.
Adrian reached for my arm.
I stayed standing.
My mother continued.
“Daniel Vale is not the man you should fear.”
Adrian went still.
“Your father is.”
The recording crackled.
“My husband, Richard Vale, has been using Daniel as a scapegoat. Daniel discovered the money laundering. Richard threatened him. When I found the ledger, Richard knew I would expose him.”
Adrian whispered, “No.”
The recording continued.
“Adrian is innocent. He believes his mother’s death was an accident.”
I looked at him.
His face had gone white.
My mother’s voice trembled.
“Claire, never trust anyone who tells you Richard died before he confessed.”
The tape ended.
Silence filled the room.
Adrian stepped backward.
“My father died eight years ago.”
“I know.”
“He had a stroke.”
My mother’s final words came from a second recording.
“No stroke. No accident. No death that should have been believed.”
Adrian turned toward me.
“Are you saying my father is alive?”
The storage room lights went out.
A voice came from somewhere behind us.
“You finally found the room.”
A man stepped from the shadows.
He looked older, thinner, but the photograph made recognition instant.
Daniel Vale.
Adrian raised his gun.
“Uncle.”
Daniel smiled sadly.
“Put it down.”
“Did you kill them?”
“No.”
“Then why have you been hiding?”
Daniel looked at me.
“Because the man who killed your mother is still alive.”
Adrian’s gun lowered half an inch.
“Who?”
Daniel looked directly into his nephew’s eyes.
“Your father.”
Adrian searched the room one more time.
“Your mother knew this was coming,” he said.
“She knew about the threats.”
“She knew about me.”
I looked at him.
“You think she wanted us married?”
“I think she wanted you near someone she believed would protect you.”
I hated how reasonable that sounded.
“Do you love your mother?”
His answer came instantly.
“Yes.”
“Do you love your father?”
He looked toward the dark hallway.
“I loved who I thought he was.”
I understood that answer too well.
Before we left, Adrian placed a hand on the mirror.
“We will find out who did this.”
“Promise?”
He looked at me.
“I do not make promises lightly.”
“Then make this one.”
He nodded.
“I promise.”
Downstairs, his security chief told us the estate gates had been opened remotely at 2:13 a.m.
Only three people had access.
Adrian.
Marcus.
And his missing legal counsel.
Adrian stared at the report.
“That man has worked for me for eleven years.”
I touched his arm.
“Then perhaps the person you trust most is exactly where they wanted you to look.”
He turned toward me.
“What are you suggesting?”
“I am suggesting we stop asking who can enter the house.”
I pointed at the photograph of my mother.
“We need to ask who was invited.The following morning, Adrian asked whether I had slept.
“Not really.”
“Neither did I.”
“Good. I would have been offended if you slept peacefully after someone wrote on your mother’s mirror.”
He smiled.
“I was considering that.”
We spent the day installing new cameras and interviewing every employee.
One housekeeper admitted she had seen a man near the west garden.
“He wore your father’s old company pin,” she said.
Adrian went still.
“My father’s company was dissolved years ago.”
“Then why would someone still have the pin?” I asked.
He looked at me.
“Because somebody wants us to believe my father is still running this.”
That night, another message appeared.
May you like
YOU ARE LOOKING IN THE WRONG HOUSE.
Then the lights in the entire estate went out.
